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I see he is prepared; his eagle eye Flashes, as, when a boy, he spoke of danger.

The banquet waits, my lord.

There can be no delay,

And no misgiving!

Our banquet's ready. Please you, Count Castruccio, To lead Bianca?

Your pardon, lady, for a brief delay; Let me look round this hall, I knew it not.

'Tis never open'd but when some high guest Honours us with his presence; and we ask Our ancestors to aid us in his greeting.

I like the custom. It is from the dead The living must their noblest lessons learn; The dead are as the stars that light the past: We see how time has honoured them, and hope Ourselves for equal honour.

True my good lord. (Aside to .) Why dost thou look so scared?

The name of every noble ancestor’s